


Hoping for a Daddy

by Ellie226



Series: The Community [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Play, Awkward Kink Negotiation, Daddy Kink, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mommy Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-01-18 21:18:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12396426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: Ben wasn't right for Tyler, but Tyler can't help but hope he can still find a little boy. Danny has been hoping for a daddy for as long as he remembers. As much as they've wished though, things are still pretty hard for both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

Daniel's POV

I'd already washed my face and brushed my teeth, and I made one last circuit around my condo, double checking everything.

Front door. Locked. Back door. Locked, with the bar so it couldn't slide. Windows were all closed. Stove was off. Refrigerator door was closed. The television was off, and I turned off the lights as I went from room to room. 

I left the nightlight on for Shakespeare, patting the cat's enormous belly on my way through the living room. He rolled onto his back and wiggled a little, and I let myself sit down to give him another scratch before I went to the bedroom and shut the door. It was already 11:00.

There was one last thing to do, the last part of my pre-bed routine. Kneeling beside the bed, I clasped my hands together and bowed my head, quietly murmuring my usual prayer.

Although the list of people that I thought about changed depending on the day, the last thing I said was always the same.

"And please, God," I mumbled, "send me a daddy. I promise to be the best little boy on earth, if you just help me find him."

Crossing myself, I stood, and climbed into bed, clicking off the bedside lamp and cuddling up against my stuffed elephant. 

It hadn't changed. Fifteen years, I had been saying that prayer, and it never seemed to make a difference. 

This time though, was going to be different. I had a date tomorrow. It was some guy I'd met online. And in spite of all of the stupid dates I'd been on, with all of the different guys, I really felt like this one might be different.

With that thought in mind, I drifted off to sleep, hopeful yet again.

Tyler's POV

I hated these online things, but I just couldn't come up with a better way of meeting anybody. After the disaster with Ben, I highly doubted that Charlotte would set me up with someone. 

This Daniel seemed nice, during our late night chats. He was sweet, talking excitedly about matchbox cars and Pixar films and telling me all about his cat, Shakespeare. 

In return, I'd told him about my hobbies and my job, as well as the home that I wanted to move into, just as soon as I met my little boy.

It had taken a while before he felt comfortable, but finally, at last, he was willing to meet me. So I was sitting at Starbucks, sipping a cup of coffee and waiting.

"Tyler?" a tentative voice interrupted my thoughts.

Daniel looked just the way he'd described, with chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes, along with a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. When I stood to greet him, he was a good six inches shorter than I was. It definitely added up to a very attractive package.

"Hi," I greeted, instinctively softening my voice. 

His eyes were wide, and he looked terrified. Gesturing to the table, I said, "Why don't you sit, and I'll get you a drink?"

"No thank you," he answered quickly, explaining, "I can get it myself. I'll just order, and then I'll be back."

Cautious, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Sitting back down, I watched as he quickly ordered his drink and waited for it, returning a few moments later with a whipped cream topped something.

"No coffee?" I asked.

He blushed a little, biting his lower lip and looking at the table before he answered, "I don't really like the way it tastes."

I hadn't known that, and I asked, "What're you drinking then? We could have gone somewhere else."

He shrugged, saying, "I don't like alcohol either, so this is as good as anyplace else to get a drink. They have hot chocolate."

"So," I said, awkwardly. "Um. How're you doing?"

"I feel a little bit like I'm going to throw up," he admitted, laughing a little. 

"Then I'm not the only one," I replied, smiling at him. "I'm really excited to meet you though, Daniel. This shouldn't be scary. I feel like I know you already."

He didn't look at me, and I let my hand drift across the table, rubbing the back of his as I said, "Really, honey. I'm nervous too. Let's just pretend we're on the phone still."

"Okay," he nodded, not saying anything else.

Deciding to try to start some sort of conversation, I asked, "How did that thing go at work today? You had some project due?"

"Okay," he replied quietly. "I turned it in, at least. So it get done."

"That's good."

"How was your day?" he asked, sounding like he didn't want to know.

"It was okay," I replied. "I had that thing I told you about, and I finished it, so that's good."

"The contract?" 

"You remembered," I smiled, hoping that it made me look less intimidating. "Yeah, that contract thing had to be reviewed, and I went over it with a client."

"So that's good?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

He laughed a little, "The only thing I really know about being a lawyer is from watching Law and Order marathons."

"Well, that's why I went to law school," I shrugged. "I love that show. The only thing I know about computers is to turn them on and navigate the Internet. I can type pretty quickly though."

"You have to know other stuff," he told me, finally making eye contact. "Facebook? You use Facebook, right?"

"No," I admitted, shaking my head, adding, "I do read the newspaper online. And I use Amazon a fair amount. But once you take a contract law class, you will never sign up for something like Facebook."

"No way," he disagreed, smiling.

I nodded, "You signed your life away, sweetheart. The fine print is terrifying."

He laughed a little, and it was pretty much the sweetest sound I could possibly imagine. I wanted to hear it again.

Daniel's POV

He was nice. Kind of funny, which was good. And he was really affectionate, which I liked. Plus, he wasn't doing the daddy thing that some of the scary guys did, when they would try to boss me around six seconds after meeting. I didn't like that.

So, when he asked if I felt like dinner, it didn't seem like a bad idea. I did, however, insist upon driving myself.

"Italian is okay?" he asked. "There's a great place up the street, about half a mile, on the west side of Baker."

I nodded, "I love Italian," I reminded him.

"I know," he grinned. "That's why I suggested."

Although he'd given me directions, I decided to follow him, not wanting to get myself lost. My sense of direction, never good, got particularly dicey when I was nervous. It was embarrassing, the way that I could never seem to get anywhere. Now, with my phone, it was a bit easier, but I still found myself making wrong turns more often than not.

Better just to follow him for this time, and he could find out about that particular character flaw later on.

Dinner went well. Tyler was nice, and I definitely got a daddy vibe from him, but he didn't say anything about me ordering a Coke with dinner or wanting chocolate at dessert. He actually offered to split the cake with me.

After the meal, he walked me out to my car, hand brushing against mine a few times. I would have liked him to take my hand, but he didn't.

"I'd like to see you again," he informed me, once we were at my car. 

I blushed looking down. Daddies did that a lot, I'd noticed. They just said what they were thinking. There was no coyness. It was nice, but it was a little scary too.

Tyler's POV

Daniel was gnawing on his lip, a nervous habit I'd seen him using throughout the night, and I reached over to tap his chin.

"Hey," I murmured. "Date? Again? I'd really like to see you sweetheart."

"I'd like that," he managed, blushing brighter.

"When?" I asked. "I would love to take you to dinner again, if that's alright."

He nodded, and I offered, "How about Sunday?"

Blushing brighter, and ducking his head, Daniel nodded wordlessly. He was so shy, and I really liked that. It was so cute.

Reaching over to squeeze his hand, I said, "Then it's a date," before I drew him close enough that I could plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

The poor little boy looked completely surprised by the kiss, not moving at all, and I opened his car door, gesturing for him to get in.

"I will see you on Sunday," I told him. "Burgers?"

It was another food he liked, and he nodded eagerly, offering the name of a nearby restaurant and a time before he began fumbling with the seatbelt, finally leaving it alone and turning the car on.

In spite of how hard I'd tried not to be a daddy tonight, that was something I couldn't let go, and I unthinkingly reminded, "Seatbelt."

Freezing, hands on the wheel, Daniel didn't say anything, and I opened the car door before squatting down beside his sedan, grabbing the seatbelt and saying, "Can I help?"

"I'm..." he trailed off, refusing to look at me. "I'm not used to the way it buckles, in this car," he finally finished.

"That can be tricky," I smiled, quickly wrapping the seatbelt across his lap and snapping it in place. "There you go."

He wasn't looking at me, and I stayed where I'd been, gently tapping his leg, "I'll see you Sunday at 5:30," I reminded.

I got a nearly imperceptible nod in response, and I kissed him again as I stood up, before closing the door and watching him drive away.

I hoped I hadn't overstepped my bounds. He'd mentioned not liking it when guys started immediately with the daddying, but it was really hard to turn off when I was around a little boy. And the seatbelt issue wasn't even a daddy thing. I was just slightly neurotic about it, and I never let anyone go anywhere without a seatbelt.

Realizing that my thinking of all the defenses wouldn't do me any good, I sighed and went over to my car, starting my way toward home. Once there I sent him a short message reiterating what a good time I had and confirming our date for the day after tomorrow. I was feeling more excited about this than I had about meeting anyone in a good long while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler's planning their future, and Danny is freaking out.

Chapter 2

 

Daniel's POV

 

He was nice. That thought kept going through my mind on my way home. That, and how much of an idiot I'd been to not be able to buckle my own damn seatbelt. I couldn't help it. The place where it clicked was tricky on my new car, and I just hadn't gotten used to it yet.

 

Tyler still wanted to meet me though, which seemed like a good sign, and I was in a good mood for the rest of the night, watching a couple of hours of tv with Shakespeare before turning in early on Saturday morning.

 

Saturday went fast. I slept most of the day away, and then I just lazed around the house. Sunday dragged though, as I waited for 5:30 to come.

 

I was nervous. I was actually more nervous than I'd been for the first time I met Tyler, which was stupid because I knew he was a nice guy, and I was now reasonably certain that he wasn't an axe murderer. 

 

But I'd worn my absolute, most favorite outfit, the one that my sister said I looked good in, and I couldn't wear it again, and it took me forever to find a replacement. Then, on my way to the restaurant, I was spacing out, and I drove right past it. 

 

Sitting in the car for a few minutes, in the parking lot, I tried to talk myself down. This was just a stupid burger. I could do this. It was not a big deal, at all, and I needed to stop working myself up.

 

The pep talk didn't work, and I could feel myself getting panicky, even as I tried to calm down. When the knock came on the window, I jumped about a mile in the air, scared out of my skin.

 

"Oh, god," I heard Tyler. "Honey, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to startle you."

 

"It's okay," I muttered, horrified that he'd seen me freaking out like that. I normally tried to keep the really fun things about myself under wraps for at least a few more dates, and the panicking thing and the clumsiness were both high on the list of things I tried to hide.

 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, smiling sympathetically.

 

I tried to shrug it off, "No big deal. I was just thinking."

 

Tyler joked, "Trying to decide whether or not to come in?"

 

As wound as I was, seeing jokes was hard, and I immediately said, "No! I want to! I just-"

 

"Honey!" Tyler pulled open the car door, muttering something about trying to continue the discussion through glass, before he squatted on the ground beside the seat, "Honey," he repeated calmly, grabbing my hand and squeezing, "I was joking. That's all. It's okay."

 

Tyler's POV

 

Poor baby. When I'd made that dumb joke, I could tell that Daniel had panicked, and I felt terrible. He was trying to babble out some sort of apology, and I just wanted to hug him.

 

Remembering how important it was to not overwhelm him, especially right now, I forced myself to stay at hand squeezing and patting his leg. It was hard though, when I all I wanted to do was hug and cuddle and reassure. He was just so nervous about meeting me.

 

I was nervous about meeting him too. This was nerve-wracking. Holding his hand, I continued to talk quietly.

 

"This is really scary, huh?" I offered.

 

When he nodded, I continued, "You want me to be a nice guy, and I seem like a nice guy, but a lot of people seem nice at the beginning."

 

"It's-" he stopped himself, and I patiently waited, although my legs were starting to burn from the awkward position I was holding.

 

After a moment of silence, when he realized I actually wasn't going to say anything, he admitted softly, "It's hard."

 

"And you don't want to do anything wrong because you're worried about how I'll respond," I continued. "Because what if showing me that you do something stupid and little is what makes me decide not to call you again?"

 

He nodded a little, eyes welling up, and I squeezed his hand again when I said, "Danny, that's how I feel too. It's normal. This is scary for everyone, without all of the extra power dynamics. I think it might be worse for us because our pool of dating candidates is so small."

 

"Even if you like me now," he managed to get out, the words sounding a slightly choked, "what if you don't like me...you know. When 'm little."

 

"I am not at all worried about that," I informed him, beginning to rub my thumb over his knuckles. "I can tell from our conversations that you are a very special little boy, and we've talked enough that I know we get along when you're big too. The only thing I didn't know before meeting you was if there was any chemistry, and I'm pretty sure that there is, hmmm?"

 

He nodded shyly, and I said, "How about we go in and get our dinner? Things'll seem better once we've both got some food in us, and you can tell me about your weekend."

 

That netted me another nod, and I gently encouraged him from the car, coaxing and praising each minor accomplishment. I'd meant what I'd said. I knew that he was a nice little boy, and I liked him as a big person as well.

 

The rational part of my brain was reasonably pointing out that he was wonderful, and that he had liked me as well. I had my own anxieties though, that I would push too far or too hard. The beginning part of relationships was always hard, trying to figure out where the line was. Adding in the daddy/little thing only complicated everything further.

 

Some littles wanted me to daddy right away, and others would fight and flee at the first sign that I wanted to be big with them. It was hard, figuring out what someone wanted, not to mention balancing out what I wanted as well.

 

It wasn't comfortable to completely turn the daddy off when I was with someone, but I was uncomfortable trying to assert dominance in a situation where I really had none. That innate desire to do little things like buckle seatbelts and comfort and cuddle was tempered by past experiences when things went too fast.

 

Really, it was unnatural. We were supposed to figure out whether we liked each other as a couple before we ever started to work on the other part of it, even though Danny had specifically said he wanted something more 24/7. The relationship wouldn't work if either of those two halves were wrong between us, but we had to focus on only one, and it was hard.

 

Making a decision as we sat down, I resolved to call Charlotte immediately about purchasing something. It was time. Whether Danny was it for me or not was still to be seen (although I tended to think that I'd found my little boy at long last), but there was nothing in the bylaws that stated I had to be paired off before moving in.

 

I could buy a home. I'd been planning on doing that anyway, and my lease was set to run out in a few months. Rather than renewing it and waiting for someone to show up, I'd start preparing a life for us now.

 

It had the added benefit of giving me a lot of space to get to know Danny in. Not just the home, where he could be himself, but the public space as well. I wanted to take him to 4th of July fireworks and trick or treating and all of the other activities that I had heard about happening. I wanted him to be able to be comfortable being little in front of me, and this seemed like a way to make that easier.

 

Daniel's POV

 

Tyler seemed far away at dinner, and it was making me nervous. He was still sweet and nice. I still liked him. He just seemed to be thinking quite a bit. At the end of the meal though, he walked me out to my car, kissing me sweetly, if briefly, on the lips before making sure that I'd buckled my seatbelt and letting me drive off.

 

He did send me a quick message on Monday night, basically saying that he'd enjoyed our date and hoped to see me soon.

 

It wasn't right though. I'd gotten used to near daily talks, mostly via text, and the short message Monday night wasn't enough for me.

 

When Tuesday passed without so much as a single text, I got more nervous, and by Wednesday, I figured that he'd decided he wasn't interested. So much for all of his talk about his nerves, he still ended up being the one rejecting me.

 

It wasn't unusual, and I tried to tamp down on my disappointment and hurt, focusing instead on work. Normally, I'd immediately reactivate my personal ad. It was best to just get back on the horse.

 

I'd really liked him though, and it was hard. Instead, I worked and went to yoga and tried to finish reading a novel I'd started two weeks ago.

 

It was hard to focus on anything else, and I found my mind wandering back to him, again and again on Wednesday.

 

I was relieved Thursday night, to receive a short text message, asking how my day had went. I tried to play it cool, acting nonchalant, but I wasn't really sure what was going on, and I just wanted him to explain.

 

If he wasn't interested, then I could live with that. It wasn't like I had much choice. But it was hard to figure out what he was doing, first acting distant at dinner and then ignoring me for two days rather than texting regularly.


	3. Chapter 3

Tyler's POV

Danny's tone in his text was off on Thursday, but I knew that Thursdays tended to be rough for him. He'd told me that by Thursday night, he was exhausted, all of his spare, extra sleep from the weekend used up, and everyone at work calling and emailing with immediate problems when they realized their project wouldn't be done by 5:00 on Friday.

I didn't want to keep him from bed, but I did need to talk to him. Charlotte had told me that there was a picnic at the park that weekend, and that she could have me approved to come.

I'd balked somewhat, at first. I hadn't seen Ben since the disastrous play date, and I didn't want the first time to be when I was with another little boy. Matt had called me after I'd left, and it had been pretty obvious that none of us felt that things were quite right. I had been unsurprised when I learned that Ben had ended up permanently joining Matt and Emily's family.

Even still, it didn't seem like a good idea for me to see him again while meeting with Danny, who didn't know me well yet. As much as I loved the idea of going back, of letting Danny be little somewhere with me, I tried to turn her down.

Luckily, she explained that Matt was going out of town with Emily and Ben, to visit his family at their cabin. With the knowledge that I wouldn't be running into them, it seemed like a perfect opportunity. I needed to meet more people so that Charlotte could get my application approved, and Danny could be around other littles.

It was a safe space for Danny to be as little as he was without worrying about what others would think. I knew from our conversations that Danny had been scared off in the past by people who moved too fast, wanting him to visit him somewhere private after only a date or two, and I didn't want to do that. I did want to meet the little boy underneath the adult face he used in public.

After texting him to check in and see how he was doing, I asked if it was okay for me to call. When that was okayed, I quickly dialed the number, eager to talk to him again.

"Hey, sweetheart," I greeted cheerily.

His response to me was quiet, guarded, a quick greeting that was followed by nothing, and I asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," he replied.

"You don't sound fine," I pointed out. "Did you have a bad day at work?"

My only response to that was a little sniffle, and I asked, "Danny? Sweetheart? What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," he insisted, sounding anything but.

"Okay, I know that's a lie," I told him firmly. "Come on, Daniel. I can hear that something is wrong, and I'd like to know what it is."

He sniffled again, not saying anything, but I waited him out until he finally said, "You didn't call."

"When?" I asked, confused.

"After," he replied, sounding angrier. "We haven't talked all week. And it's fine if you're not interested, but don't jerk me around like this, Tyler. It's not fair."

"Whoa," I said, surprised. "Honey, I've been busy with some other stuff. I had no intention of jerking your around. I am definitely interested. Why didn't you call to see what was going on?"

"You always do," he pointed out.

I wasn't really sure how to handle this. He was right. I normally initiated our conversations. I'd been the one to contact him to begin with. But I hadn't ever said that I couldn't talk to him at other times.

Keeping myself calm, I said, "Danny, how do you expect me to know there's a problem if you don't call me and tell me?"

That didn't receive a response, and I told him, "Honey, I am very sorry if I hurt your feelings by not calling. I've been busy this week, setting something up for this weekend. I wanted to get everything ready before I called you about it."

"Maybe I don't want to go," he replied, sounding a bit snotty.

"Maybe not," I agreed. "But I thought you might. There's a picnic, in that neighborhood I told you about, and I wanted you to come with me. I've been talking to Charlotte, about buying a house, and she invited us both."

His voice was small when he replied, "Oh."

 

"Would you like to go?" I asked.

 

I received a mumbled yes in response, and we made arrangements for him to meet me there on Saturday. At the last minute, in spite of repeatedly thinking about how I shouldn't reprimand him yet, I couldn't help it.

 

"Danny, I understand that you were upset," I told him. "But it's not fair to be mad at me for not knowing you're upset."

 

"I know," he sighed.

 

"You were pretty mad at me when I called," I said, hoping he would come up with it on his own.

 

When no apology was forthcoming, I added, "It might be nice for you to apologize for biting my head off, little boy."

 

"Sorry," he muttered.

 

I could practically see him turning red, in spite of it being a telephone conversation, and I quickly moved on, thanking him for the apology and promising to call the next day.

 

Daniel's POV

 

Tyler was right. I'd been a snot on the phone, and I was surprised that he was still willing to do anything with me. As soon as he hung up, I hurried to my room, piling blankets on top of myself and curling up as I went over the conversation.

 

I was still mad that he hadn't called. He was always the one who called. But he was right, that I could have, and I probably shouldn't have had an attitude with him.

 

Running through our conversation repeatedly, I accidentally fell asleep, not waking up until the next morning, when my alarm went off. With my phone in the living room, it had probably been going for a while before I heard it.

 

Luckily, I wasn't late for work, but I did have to rush through my Friday. I felt like the entire day was me trying to catch up. I'd missed breakfast, not to mention that I hadn't had time to throw some dry food down for Shakespeare. I forgot my phone. I got in on time, but by the skin of my teeth, and it was all just overwhelming.

 

By the time I got home at 6:00, Chinese food in hand, all I felt like doing was collapsing on my couch and watching crappy television while I ate out of containers. Remembering that Tyler had promised to call, I grabbed my phone and winced at the messages.

 

He'd apparently been trying to text me all day. That had been our routine for a while now, with him just texting to check in and see how I was doing. I liked it. With my phone at home, I obviously hadn't responded, and he'd called immediately at 5:00 to see if everything was okay.

 

There was a voicemail from that phone call, as well as a second voicemail that he'd left only a few minutes before I walked through the door, and I listened to both before forcing myself to call him back.

 

"Hi," I said, when he answered.

 

"Hi," he responded. "What's with the silence, Daniel?"

 

Blushing, I admitted, "I left my phone at home. I was running late, and I forgot."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's not feeling well, and Tyler wants to help.

Tyler's POV

 

I was relieved to hear that, and I quickly told him, "That's not great, but I'm glad to hear that you're okay."

 

"Sorry I missed your messages," he apologized.

 

I waved it off, asking, "What's up, sweetheart? You sound exhausted."

 

"Long day," he tried to leave it at that. "You know. Are we still on for tomorrow?"

 

"If you're up for it," I replied, not liking the way he sounded. He was tired. I could hear it in his voice. Beyond that, he sounded just beat down, and I was worried. "Honey, are you feeling okay? You really sound terrible. Did something happen?"

 

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Just tired."

 

"Okay," I backed off, hard as it was. He didn't sound fine, but if he didn't want to tell me more, I needed to respect that. "How was your day?"

 

"Long," he said softly. "What about you?"

 

"Long," I agreed. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow, and I've been thinking about that all day. I didn't get much done."

 

"Really?" he asked, sounding surprised.

 

"Absolutely," I swore. "You are very distracting, little boy. Did you know that?"

 

He sounded embarrassed as he contradicted, "I'm not."

 

"You are," I disagreed. "What're you up to tonight?"

 

"Nothing," he replied, eager to move on. "I picked up carry out on the way home. I'm thinking couch, DVR, cat, and that's about it.

 

"Not too late," I warned, without thinking. "You sound tired, sunshine, and you probably need some rest."

 

"It's Friday," he said.

 

"It is," I agreed, "but you sound like you might need an early night."

 

"I'm fine," he insisted, sounding a bit surly.

 

He wasn't. I could hear it in his voice. Realizing that I was pushing too hard, I tried to back off again and let it go, talking with him for a few minutes more before I hung up with promises to meet the next day.

 

My Saturday was as slow as my Friday had been, with me waiting for 3:00, when I'd get to see him again. I went to the gym and did some laundry before trying on far too many outfits. At about 2:00, I got a text, telling me that he needed to cancel.

 

I wasn't sure what was going on, but whatever it was, I figured it would be easier to figure out on the phone. Texting was great for some things, but I hated when people used it when a conversation would work better.

 

Quickly dialing his number, I was relieved when he picked up. At least he wasn't avoiding me. 

 

"What's up?" I asked him, as soon as I heard his groggy voice.

 

"Hi," he repeated, sounding even worse than he had the day before. "I'm really sorry, Tyler, but I feel terrible. There's just no way. I've been taking cold medicine and sleeping, but I don't think I can handle going out tonight."

 

"Are you okay?" I asked, instantly worried.

 

"Yeah," he said. "s'probably just a cold or something. I just woke up feeling like I got hit by a truck. I'm not going to be great company."

 

"Well, you shouldn't be dragging yourself out if you feel sick anyway," I admitted, feeling disappointed. 

 

"No," he agreed.

 

Unable to stop myself, I added, "I really wanted to see you though."

 

I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, "I wanted to too."

 

"You wanted to see you?" I teased a little.

 

"No," he scoffed. "I wanted to see you."

 

He coughed a little, and I said, "That sounds pretty bad, sweetheart. Did you take something for it?"

 

"Yeah," he replied. "Some cold stuff I had left over from last time I got sick."

 

"What about food?" I asked. "Do you have some soup? And popsicles? You should be getting a lot of fluids."

 

Daniel's POV

 

I didn't want him to worry. I got sick plenty, tons of cold. I wasn't sure why; I just always had. I knew how to take care of myself, and I told him as much.

 

"I know," he soothed. "I'm just worried. Can't turn it off, honey. Do you have what you need?"

 

"Yeah," I sighed, not being entirely honest. 

 

I'd kind of used my stores the last time I was sick, and since it had only been a month, I hadn't had a chance to replenish. I had a can of soup in the cupboard, and I was sure there were some freezer burned grape popsicles left, but I didn't have enough juice. And I normally sucked down vitamin water when I got sick of juice, just for the fluids.

 

Plus, and this was more of an issue, I didn't have Kleenex. I'd forgotten it on my last two Target runs, and the toilet paper was hurting my nose.

 

Tyler took a deep breath before offering, "Maybe I could stop by? Just to check on you? I've got some pretty good soup in my freezer. If you're up to it, we could watch a movie?"

 

"You don't have to do that," I said, embarrassed.

 

"I want to," he insisted.

 

"The picnic," I objected. "You could still go."

 

"Doesn't sound fun without you," he admitted. "If you're not comfortable, that's completely fine, Danny. I would understand. But, I'd really like to see you still."

 

Coughing, I informed him, "I'm probably contagious, and I'm a hot mess right now."

 

"I don't mind the bugs," he replied. "And I doubt you're a hot mess. I bet you look adorable."

 

Adorable was not the word I'd use to describe my hair at the moment, or my chapped nose. Plus, at the moment, I could only breathe through my mouth which was not cute. And I probably had pretty rank breath from not feeling well.

 

"Danny," he interrupted my thoughts. "What do you say? I'll bring some soup and maybe a movie or two?"

 

I loved the idea of curling up on the couch and watching a movie with him. He'd told me that watching DVDs was one of his favorite things to do, and it sounded fun to cuddle with him. My resolve weakening, I tried one last time.

 

"I'll make you sick."

 

"Then you can take care of me next weekend," he offered. "Don't say no because you're worried about me. If you don't want to, that's fine, but don't say no because of me."

 

Finally, I caved, saying, "That sounds nice."

 

"I'll be over in twenty," he said, sounding like he was already off of the couch. "Just let me change into something more comfortable and grab the soup. Could you text me your address?"

 

I agreed, sending the message as soon as I hung up. Then, I looked around my condo and panicked. It was kind of a pit, with dirty tissues all over the place. Shakespeare was eating abandoned Chinese food on the coffee table, and everything was just trashed.

 

Realizing I didn't have much time, I began to hurry cleaning up. I was a mess too, and I figured if I could just get the trash out and the food in the sink, I could maybe take a quick shower before he got there.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Tyler's POV

 

It took me more like thirty minutes. I couldn't help but stop at the store and pick up some stuff. It was miserable to be sick all on your own, and I always hated it.

 

I felt like I was on Supermarket Sweep, racing through the grocery store to grab juice and flavored water and cold medicine. I threw in some honey along with crackers, tea,  and popsicles, and I grabbed several boxes of Kleenex too.

 

Given what I accomplished, I felt like 30 minutes was pretty good. When I got to Danny's home, I had to stop and take a few breaths, reminding myself to stay calm. I couldn't help it that I thought sick little boys were pretty much the most adorable thing ever. They pushed all of my daddy buttons, and although I hated to see someone sick, I loved taking care of them.

 

Looking around, I took everything in. Danny lived in a two story building of small, brick, units, and from the way he described the small place, he clearly loved it there. He'd told me that he had a nice view out the back, with a man-made lake. The ducks drove his cat crazy. I knew he'd spent a lot of time picking everything out, and that it was his first place by himself, without family or roommates. I was excited to see inside, to get a better feel for his taste and personality.

 

When Danny opened the door, any thoughts I had about the soft grey walls or the thick carpeting were displaced by concerns about how he looked.

 

"You look terrible," I blurted out, without thinking.

 

"You're kind of a charmer, you know?" he croaked, flashing a quick smile. 

 

"I'm sorry," I rapidly apologized, embarrassed. "Honey, you look like you feel awful. Let's get you settled back on the couch, and I'll heat up some soup for you. Do you have a tea kettle?"

He looked at me, confused, and asked, "For what?"

"For boiling your toes, sweetheart," I told him with a grin. "I'm going to make you some tea. Kettle?"

"I don't drink tea," he informed me.

"You can try it," I replied, serenely going into the tiny kitchen and finding a pot for the stove. That could work.

"I don't like it," he said, standing in the middle of the living room and watching me. Wrapping the blanket closer around himself, he shivered a bit.

After putting the pot on the stove to heat, I turned back around and steered him to the couch, ordering, "Stay put, little boy. You look like you're about to fall over, and you need to get some rest."

"I said I don't like it," he repeated in a grumble, even as he allowed me to settle him on the couch.

"And I heard you," I replied. "But you'll like this kind. It's herbal. It's all cinnamon and cardamom, and it's spicy and sweet. I'll put in some honey, and it'll soothe your throat."

He gave me a look, but I finished tucking him in on the couch and kissed his forehead, "How about you find something on television?"

Daniel's POV

He was kind of bossy when you got sick. I wasn't sure if I liked it. But he was letting me pick what we watched. And the tucking in and the forehead kissing...it wasn't all bad.

Listlessly flicking through our options, I settled on an old movie before sitting up and watching him bustle around my kitchen. He was heating up some soup too, and that smelled pretty delicious.

"Lay down," he ordered.

"I'm watching," I explained.

He nodded, not looking at me, "And you can do that lying down, sunshine. Go on. Have you taken your temperature?"

"No," I shook my head, laying back down on the couch and pulling the quilt to my chin. Shakespeare jumped up beside me and began to purr like crazy, snuggling against my tummy.

I hadn't realized what a big deal this apparently was, not until he cleared his throat from the doorway, asking, "Why not? How're you supposed to know if you're doing better if you don't know how you're doing now."

"My throat hurts," I explained. "And I'm coughing and my head hurts and my skin. When that stuff stops, then I'm feeling better. When I can't walk, then I'm worse."

"I think we should take your temperature.”

I sighed, explaining, "Don't have one."

"One what?"

"A thermometer," I explained. "I never bought one. Seemed dumb. I'm an adult. Who cares if I have a fever?"

"I care," he informed me, sitting down on the couch and beginning to rustle through the reusable shopping bag he'd brought until he unearthed something.

He wiped it down with alcohol, sliding it into my mouth without further comment. Using my tongue to push it to the side, I asked, "Do you always carry a thermometer?"

"Only when I'm dropping by to see little boys who apparently don't take care of themselves," he replied. "Keep that under your tongue."

It was an old one, glass. I would have preferred digital, but apparently, he didn't. And I didn't bother to own a thermometer, so I would have to accept his preferences.

Tyler's POV

Danny's look of disgruntlement faded as he let the thermometer rest in his mouth, and I gently rubbed his belly and looked at the television.

"Father Goose?" I asked, smiling at him. "I love this. Leslie Caron's pretty bratty in it."

He started to talk, and I shook my head, "Give it a minute, sweetheart. You're almost done."

Apparently, he wasn't one to brat when sick, since he didn't argue with that. Instead, he let his eyes drift closed and shifted a bit under my hand. He didn't bother to move again until I removed the thermometer, opening his eyes just a bit and croaking, "What's it?"

"101," I replied. "Not that high. What've you been taking?"

"I had some of that," he said, pointing at a bottle on a nearby table.

Reading the label quickly, I told him, "This isn't for a sore throat or a cough, sweetheart. It's just a headache and a fever reducer."

I was a little nervous about the fact that he'd been taking a fever reducer already, and his temperature was still high for an adult.

"When was your last dose?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know. I fell asleep after."

Nodding, I noted the time before setting it back down. I was making the tea with honey, that would help his throat and the cough anyway, and I'd give him some more of this in a while.

Getting up, I went back to the kitchen and dished up some soup and started the tea to steep. Bringing back the mug, I handed it over with a spoon.

"Eat some soup," I ordered gently. "It'll make your throat feel better."

He nodded, sitting up a bit and spooned some soup into his mouth. After he swallowed, he mumbled, "Tastes good."

"I don't make a ton of different stuff," I explained. "I have a good soup recipe though. I can make pretty good spaghetti sauce too."

"You'll have to make me some," he said. "When I feel better. I love spaghetti."

"Who doesn't?"

He shrugged, shifting a little so he was resting more against me as he continued to eat the soup. It disappeared before the tea was even done, and I took the mug into the kitchen before returning with the honeyed beverage.

Making a face, he said, "I really don't like tea."

"Just try it," I wheedled. "If you hate it, I won't care. I'll get you some juice. But I love this tea, and it's good. I swear."

Slowly, he lifted the mug to his lips, sipping it slowly. Smile breaking across his face, he said, "It's pretty good."

"Yeah," I agreed. “I love that one.”


	6. Chapter 6

Danny's POV

 

Tyler was nice. He was always nice, but I kind of especially liked him right now, like this. He was a little bit bossy, but he teased and was gentle about it. And he was right, the tea was good. So was the soup. 

 

I liked having someone around when I didn't feel well. My mother's a terrible nurse, and I'd gotten used to taking care of myself when I felt sick early on. Since I moved out on my own, I'd adapted more, usually remembering to keep soup and stuff in the cupboards, but I had to admit that I liked having him fuss a little. 

 

That was a good thing since he seemed to fuss when people got sick. He gently nudged and cajoled me into drinking the entire mug of tea, before he filled a tall glass with ice water for me as well.

 

"I'm going to float away," I complained, sipping it slowly. 

 

It had been a lot of liquids! I'd been drinking before he got there, and now the water and the tea and the soup...I was going to end up having to pee every thirty seconds.

 

He shrugged, "You need the fluids. It flushes out your system."

 

"I was drinking," I defended pettishly, giving him a look.

 

That got me a nod, and he patted my knee, encouraging, "If you drink that, I could maybe grab you a popsicle."

 

Tyler's POV

 

"I only got grape," the little boy informed me, looking very tired all of the sudden. He'd already looked exhausted, but now he was slumping into the arm of the couch, eyes at half-mast.

 

"Well, you're in luck," I informed him, quickly easing the glass from his hand before it could spill. "I brought some more over. If you don't want grape. What flavor do you want?"

 

"Red," he mumbled, scrubbing at his face.

 

Danny looked adorably little, and I just wanted to cuddle him. I settled for helping him slip down so he was resting easily on the couch and covering him up with the blanket. Laying a cool hand on his forehead, I rested it there for a minute.

 

"You close your eyes," I instructed him. "Let me get you a popsicle."

 

Without a complaint, he did as he was told, and I went to the kitchen to grab the promised treat. I didn't bother to unwrap it though, certain that he would be asleep before I went back into the living room, and I wasn't disappointed. I switched off the tv, not wanting anything to wake him.

 

It was strange, being in his home without him being awake. I didn't want to pry, but I was curious, and it was hard. For a while, I sat on the couch near his feet, gently rubbing his calves and waiting for him to wake up. I only managed to do that for about 20 minutes before I was bored out of my mind, and ten of those were spent looking around the room.

 

He clearly didn't use the dining area for dining. The kitchen had a small table, but the dining area that was just off the kitchen and open into the living room had his desk with a laptop on it and several bookshelves. There was also a chair and ottoman that looked extremely comfortable, if Danny's fat tabby was any indication.

 

Shakespeare was lounging on the chair, rolling onto his back and then staring at me, and after a while, I gave in, going over to the cat and rubbing his belly.

 

"Hey, kitty kitty," I crooned softly. "Good cat."

 

He tolerated my touch for a very short period before he batted my hand away, claws out just enough to make a point about being done. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and began to survey the room. It was comfortable, clearly set up for him to relax in, and I liked it.

 

The walls were the same grey that he'd used in the living room and hallway, and the carpets were the same darker grey of everywhere else as well. He'd put his desk below the window on the wall opposite the kitchen, and there was a small collection of wind up toys sitting on the window ledge as well as a slim laptop on the desk.

 

The chair was on the long wall, between the two bookcases. It was big, overstuffed, with a comfortable looking ottoman and several squishy pillows. 

 

The whole place looked comfortable. The walls and carpeting were simple and soothing, kind of fading away to nothing. He'd added color in different places. There was a set of three posters above the chair, a timeline of world history with somewhat cartoonish figures. They were framed in simple black frames, and I spent a while looking at them. 

 

The chair was black, but it had a bright blue afghan on it as well as a pillow. It had a cartoon picture of some guy holding a sword, shouting, "We're the exception." I had no idea what that meant, but it made me smile. 

 

The shelves were full of books, and I began to skim the titles. Danny had mentioned being a reader, and I could tell he wasn't joking. He had tons of books, floor to ceiling, all along the wall with the exception of the cove he'd set up for his chair. 

 

He definitely read different things too. I saw plenty of fiction, including some children's novels as well as classics. It seemed to slant to Russian literature. There were some non-fiction as well, with what seemed like a lot of history. I could tell he was interested in World War II; there were two entire shelves devoted to it.

 

I liked the way he'd combined things on the shelves too. There was a system of organization, that I could see easily enough with books grouped together by type, but he'd put small touches with various collections. 

 

In front of the World War II books, there was a framed postcard of the inside of an old building and a set of un-nested nesting dolls of the different world leaders. By Harry Potter, there was a small stuffed owl, wearing a scarf. At the perfect height for him to read by, there was a glass lamp with a lampshade covered in pages of a book.

 

It was like that all over the bookshelves though. He had little symbols of whatever the books were. I saw a few zombie figurines on one shelf, by some fat novels, and there were a set of Wizard of Oz wind-up toys by that series. 

 

I liked the small nods to the little side of him, toys and Narnia interspersed with framed art and Chekhov. It made me wonder what the rest of the place looked like.

 

It wasn't really snooping to go through the kitchen. Danny had seen me in there earlier, and so he knew I'd see everything. 

 

Quietly, I walked into the kitchen and began to look around. It was small and tidy, with white appliances and black and white checkered linoleum. He had the same grey walls in here as he did everywhere else, with the exception of the wall that he'd painted with chalkboard paint.

 

I saw the same hand in the kitchen as I had in his little library, with a small collection of salt and pepper shakers clustered on a shelf and Disney magnets on the refrigerator. 

 

He obviously wasn't a cook. The cupboards and refrigerator had been pretty close to bare when I looked through everything, and I was surprised that it was so low. There was a list started on the chalkboard wall, with milk, bananas, yoghurt, granola, apples, and macaroni and cheese, but that was all.

 

I wished that he had told me that he needed groceries. I could have picked them up for him. Now that he was napping, I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay and keep an eye on him. 

 

I spent the rest of his nap snooping, although I did force myself to not go into his bedroom. I had to use the bathroom though, and I went back to wait for him to wake up in the living room, so I looked around both of those before settling onto the couch beside him with a book that I pulled from the shelf.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations start...

Danny's POV

 

I woke up fuzzy from the rest, rubbing my eyes and whining a little. I had been hoping I'd feel better, but that was apparently not going to happen anytime soon. 

 

After a few minutes of scrubbing at my face with my hands, I heard Tyler's voice, "Awake, sunshine?"

 

"You're here," I said, voice very rough by now.

 

"I am," he agreed. "Oh, Danny. You sound terrible. Let me get you some more juice."

 

"I'm not thirsty," I disagreed, trying to unwind myself from the blanket. 

 

"Whoa, sunshine," he said, catching my arm as I stood up and promptly began to tilt. "Where're you going?"

 

"Bathroom," I muttered, trying to pull away. “Need to pee.”

 

He kept a hand on my upper arm, saying, "Why don't you let me walk you? I'm a little worried you're going to fall. I think that you need some fluids, and I want to get a temp on you too."

 

"I'm fine," I disagreed, although I gave up trying to get him to let me go. "I'm just tired."

 

"Tired and a little loopy," he commented, helping me along to the bathroom. 

 

Once I was inside, I looked at him for a moment, saying, "You can go now."

 

"I thought we were going to watch a movie," he said.

 

That wasn't what I'd meant, and I explained, "Not go like leave. Just...wait for me in the living room. I'll be fine."

 

Tyler looked like he didn't entirely believe me, but he did thankfully leave me to my own devices so that I could pee. I never would have been able to with him listening outside the door, so that was something to be happy about. 

 

That urgent need taken care of, I quickly washed my hands before blowing my nose and staring at myself in the mirror. I looked terrible! My hair was a mess, sticking up in weird clumps all over my head, and my nose was red and flaky. My eyes were bloodshot, and my cheeks actually looked kind of swollen.

 

Gingerly, I pressed on them with a wince. They were definitely swollen, and I slowly dragged my fingertips down them, away from my nose, in an attempt to get my sinuses to drain.

 

It didn't do much. I wasn't sure why, but it seemed like that only worked when my mom did it. With a sigh, I finally turned the water off and went to rejoin Tyler, who was now on my couch talking quietly to Shakespeare.

 

"How're you feeling?" he asked me.

 

I shrugged, "Okay," I tried.

 

He actually laughed at that, accusing, "Fibber."

 

"'m not," I disagreed. "I'm sore, and my head kind of hurts. I'm sick. I don't feel good, but it's not much worse than before."

 

He was all over that, asking, "Much worse? So it is worse, then?"

 

I didn't want to admit it, but I did, telling him, "Maybe a little. But just a very little."

 

"Okay," he agreed, standing up and reaching over to me so that he could steer me to the couch. "You sit there. I'm going to get you some juice. Do you want apple? I bought some grape too."

 

"White?"

 

He nodded in response, and I let out a little sigh. I wasn’t sure what kind of witchcraft he’d used, but he seemed to be guessing what I liked pretty well.

 

Tyler's POV

 

In spite of his lengthy nap, Danny still looked ready to fall over, and I wanted to get some fluids in him and check his fever before he drifted off again. 

 

I was probably being paranoid, but I was worried about him, and I toyed with the idea of calling Charlotte. She'd mentioned having a doctor next door, and I thought it might be worth a shot, trying to get Danny in to see someone. 

 

Sticking the thermometer into his mouth, I explained, "I'm going to go and get you some grape juice with ice, sunshine, and you're going to sit here and wait for me. Good deal?"

 

He nodded a little, curling back up on his side and allowing the cat to snuggle into his tummy, and I left him alone to get the drink, pouring something for myself as well before joining him.

 

We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before I checked the thermometer, and I was dismayed to see that his fever had risen. Only half a degree, but that was not the direction I'd been hoping to see it go. 

 

I shook out a few pills into my hand and gave them to him, hoping that it was just the Tylenol wearing off that made the fever spike.

 

“I’m fine,” he informed me stubbornly, the sentence made somewhat less convincing as it came out, “I’b fide.”

 

“You’re fine,” I agreed, watching as he swallowed. “Your temp is up though.”

 

“It’s Saturday, anyway,” he said. 

 

“It is,” I agreed, raising an eyebrow at the odd statement.

 

He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as he explained, “Can’t go see any doctor. It’s Saturday. This is not what the ER is for.”

 

“Watch the sass, sunshine,” I admonished him, unable to keep myself from smiling at the eye roll. “Your eyes are going to get stuck that way. And I could actually call a doctor, even if it is Saturday. My friend Charlotte, her friend takes care of her little girl, and I’m guessing she’d do a housecall.”

 

He scowled at that, “I don’t need no housecall.”

 

Cursing the whole not being a daddy thing yet, or at least not being his daddy, I nodded, “Suit yourself, although I’m guessing Miss Charlotte’s friend could help you feel better.”

 

Daniel’s POV

 

I hated doctors, and I shook my head stubbornly at him, grateful for a brief moment that he was not my daddy and could not force me. Weirdly, I felt a little disappointment too, but I wasn’t sure why.

 

“Shall we watch some TV?” he asked me, pulling my feet up onto his lap before giving them a firm pat. 

 

I nodded, wiggling my toes and mumbling, “You pick.”

 

Really, I was sick of TV. I was sick of the couch. Although I hadn’t realized I was sick until this morning, I’d spent a good chunk of the week on this couch, mindlessly staring at the television, and I was bored.

 

I liked television. I liked it possibly more than I really wanted to admit to anyone, especially Tyler. Even so, I had my limit as well.

 

“You don’t seem too excited,” Tyler commented, holding the remote control without turning the TV on.

 

Shaking my head, I said, “It’s fine.”

 

That made Tyler put down the remote control. Fixing me with a stern look, he said, “Fine is what people say when they don’t like something.”

 

“Nooooo,” I tried.

 

“Uh huh,” he nodded, looking unimpressed. “Pull the other one. It has bells on it.”

 

That didn’t make any sense, and I stared at him stupidly for a minute before he sighed and said, “Sunshine, I need you to tell me what the issue is. I came over to help you; I can’t do that if you’re telling me polite little lies. So please tell me what you’d like to do.”

 

Tyler’s POV

 

Danny looked miserable, and he actually smacked the couch with one hand, whining, “I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t know what,” I asked him, not allowing myself to become exasperated with the little show of temper. He didn’t feel well, and even if that weren’t true, he wasn’t my little boy. Not really. Not yet.

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said, more sniffly than whining now. “I just...I’m sick of TV.”

 

“What else would you like to do then?”

 

He shrugged, eyes flooding as he whined, “I don’t know.”

 

“Do you want to try reading a book?” I asked him, rubbing his feet. 

 

I felt badly for him, even as I found myself annoyed by the whining. He was sick, which was miserable to begin with. To top that off, he was just out of sorts. I didn’t doubt that he didn’t know what he wanted.

 

“I can’t,” he sniffled. 

 

“Why not?”

 

Shrugging, he said, “Makes my head hurt more. And my eyes. I tried earlier. Plus, I can’t concentrate. My head’s all swimmy.”

 

“Do you want me to try to read to you?” I asked him sympathetically.

 

He shook his head crabbily, “Still can’t pay ‘ttention.”

 

“Do you want to try to play cards?” I suggested.

 

“No,” he crabbed. “That’s boring.”

 

“What about with toys? Do you have toys?”

 

He shook his head, pouting mightily, and I suggested a few other things, finally asking if he needed a nap. When he shook his head crankily at that suggestion, I decided to make an offer.

 

Looking at him closely, I pursed my lips before finally saying, “Danny, you can tell me no, and it won’t change anything. It’s not forever no, just you’re not comfortable yet. But the way you’re acting is telling me that you need me to be the big person for you right now. Is that the situation?”

 

“Noooo,” he warbled out, sounding more uncertain than anything.

 

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Sunshine, I don’t mind. And like I said, you can tell me no. But right now, you seem pretty miserable and crabby.”

 

Pulling his feet from my lap, he sat up a bit, even as he scooted down the couch so he was closer. Avoiding eye contact, he asked, “What...how?”

 

“How would I be the big person?” I clarified, waiting for his nod before I explained. “Well, I guess I would just be the boss. Like right now, I think that I know a little boy who needs some more soup and a drink and maybe a story before taking a nap for me again.”

 

“No…” he was blushing brightly as he stared at his lap. Swallowing hard, he said, “No doctor.”

 

“I can live with that,” I told him. “I’m not even sure if you need a doctor right now anyway.”

 

“And no shots,” he listed. “And no...no taking my temp’ture...you know. Just in my mouth.”

 

I was surprised that he had even suggested that, but I suppressed my smile at his obvious embarrassment, replying, “Of course not. I was thinking you might be more comfortable if things were...I guess better defined? Because right now, it feels like you’re maybe pushing to see if I’m in charge, and I don’t want to overstep.”

 

“Would you punish me?” he asked, staring at his hands. “Like...spank me?”

 

“No,” I replied quickly. “Honey, I’m not comfortable with that. I would maybe make you take a nap, if you were being crabby, but anything more than that...you’re a sick little boy. I don’t think we need to do that.”

 

Glancing up at me, he quickly dropped his head again as he said, “But later? I mean, you like spanking. I read your profile.”

 

“Later,” I agreed. “When you’re feeling well, if things keep heading in the direction I think they’ve been headed in, then I would want to talk about it. For right now though, we’re just talking about me taking care of you. Without any kind of punishment.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler sets boundaries, Danny continues to push, and an awkward question gets asked.

Danny’s POV

 

I was embarrassed that he was even offering this, and I wanted to say no. I  wanted to say yes too, but it seemed early, and I didn’t want him to think that I wanted a daddy just so that someone would make me soup. 

 

It was confusing before I got sick, and my brain was like pudding from not feeling well. Finally, I nodded.

 

“I need to hear you say it,” he told me softly. “I want to make sure that we understand each other.”

 

Swallowing hard, I muttered, “I want you to be in charge. ‘cept not with doctors and only a mouth thermometer. And no spanking me.”

 

“Alright then,” Tyler nodded, slowly reaching out his arm to pull me over against him and give me a squeeze. “We can do that. First thing, I think that you need a drink and a snack. Would you like juice or water?”

 

Tyler’s POV

 

Pouting a little, he informed me, “I’m sick of juice. And water.”

 

I hadn’t expected him to jump right in to pouting and testing me once he made this step, but he wasn’t feeling well.

 

Firmly, I told him, “Little boys who are sick need lots of juice and water. Unless you would like some more tea?”

 

Sighing heavily, he relaxed back against the arm of the couch, sliding his feet back up on my lap as he whined, “Coke.”

 

“No,” I replied, putting his feet onto the couch and standing up. “Last chance to make your choice, little boy, before I decide to help you.”

 

“I made a choice,” he said, trying to sass me even as he looked nervous. “And you said you wouldn’t punish me.”

 

He was a lot bolder than I had anticipated, but I focused on how I would respond if we were actually together, rather than this temporary weirdness we’d stumbled upon.

 

“It’s not a punishment,” I explained to him calmly. “I’ve asked you to make a choice. You won’t. The consequence of not telling me what you want is that I have to choose for you. That’s fine, if deciding is too much responsibility for you right now. But if you want to pick what you drink, then you need to do it.”

 

He crossed his arms over his chest at that, pouting, and I warned, “Last shot, sunshine. Tell me what you want to drink, or I’m going to get you something without your input.”

 

“Coke,” he repeated stubbornly, still sounding very nervous.

 

“Alright then,” I agreed, walking to the kitchen and grabbing the first bottle of juice at hand.

 

“Wait, no!” Danny said, trying to get up and getting his feet tangled in the blankets as he stood beside the couch. He tried to kick them off to come to me as he said, “No! I want grape!”

 

If I’d still just been there as the guy he’d been dating, I would have handed over the grape and been done with it.  

 

As things were, I knew I couldn’t do that. He was testing, and he needed to see, and I couldn’t. 

 

Pouring the juice, I didn’t turn around, telling him, “And you are welcome to grape juice after you drink this orange juice. Please sit back on the couch; you need to be resting.”

 

“But I want grape!” he insisted. 

 

He didn’t sit down, but he didn’t keep moving toward the kitchen either. Standing up beside the couch, he said, “I’m sorry I was being difficult. Please, I want grape.”

 

“And you are welcome to some grape juice after you finish this,” I repeated, turning to him. “And I believe I told you to sit yourself down.”

 

“But I said sorry!”

 

He looked ready to stomp his foot, and I bit back a smile, replying, “Yes you did, and I very much appreciate the apology. But I don’t talk to hear the sound of my own voice, Daniel. If I tell you something, then I mean it. I told you that you had to make a choice or I would, and I very much meant it. Just like I meant it when I told you that you needed to be on the couch.”

 

Daniel’s POV

 

I couldn’t help but let out an injured little sniffle, staring at my feet and not moving. I hadn’t known he actually meant it. Not right away! 

 

“Daniel Christian,” Tyler stared at me. “Sit. Now. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

 

Tyler sounded irritated when he said that, and I didn’t even think as I sat down. It was like the sound of his voice triggered something in some part of my brain that worked separately for my legs, making them listen even when my ears didn’t want to.

 

“Thank you,” he said, sounding a little bit less mad than before.

 

Pulling my feet up on the couch, I wrapped my arms around my legs and didn’t respond. Tyler didn’t seem bothered by it; he just walked over and sat back down, handing me the glass of orange juice before he put an arm around my shoulder.

 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked me.

 

I shrugged a little, sipping the juice and wishing. I wasn’t sure for what, but I wanted something.

 

Tyler hugged me to him, saying, “I think you should have some soup and then a nap. You’re acting like you don’t feel very well.”

 

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.

 

Tyler’s POV

 

And now he was little and quiet again, and I worried that I pushed too far. Hugging him for a moment longer, I pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

 

“I really appreciate you listening when I asked you to sit down,” I praised. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, and you’re looking pretty wobbly, sunshine.”

 

He didn’t say anything, and I kissed him again before standing up, explaining, “I’m going to heat up another mug of soup for you. I’d like you to have at least half of that juice gone by the time I come out here with it.”

 

Without waiting for a response, I walked into the kitchen and got to work. I was hoping that he was just embarrassed, and he needed a minute alone to get over it. 

 

I was bossy. I knew that. And I had meant what I said to him, about meaning what I say. I don’t see the point of telling somebody to do something if you’re just going to throw up your hands when they don’t.

 

And I liked Danny. I really did. But he needed to see what I was actually like, bossiness and all, and then he could make an informed decision. 

 

I comforted myself with the knowledge that he hadn’t told me to leave or insisted that I stop telling him what to do as I heated the soup up before returning to him.

 

He’d slid down on the couch, propped up enough to drink the juice without spilling while still being pretty comfortably under the blanket. His right hand was up by his face, and he was rubbing at his lips and pouting.

 

“More soup,” I stated unnecessarily, offering him the mug. “What’s with the face?”

 

“I can’t…” he trailed off, blushing, not taking the mug.

 

“Can’t what?” I prompted, helping him to sit up enough that I could spoon some soup into his mouth.

 

He swallowed it, muttering thank you before he explained, “My nose is full of tiny chickens.”

 

“What?” I asked, laughing.

 

“Tiny, invading, chickens,” he explained, the effect of his serious tone compromised by his ridiculous speech.

 

“Is that so?” I smiled, spooning more soup.

 

He nodded seriously, telling me, “They poop snot. My nose can’t breathe ‘cause it’s full of snot. And I can’t suck my thumb because I need my nose to breathe to do that. And I blow and I blow, but the tiny chickens keep snotting me.”

 

Danny looked thoroughly disgruntled, and I was thrilled to see him being adorable and little instead of crabby. I didn’t mind crabby little boys, but it wasn’t exactly the way I’d wanted to start things out with him.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I finally said, continuing to feed him soup.

 

“And I can’t sleep because I need my thumb to sleep,” he explained to me seriously.

 

I nodded, wondering if this adorableness was all in service to the goal of not napping. Hoping that I was simply being overly suspicious of him, I pointed out, “You seemed to nap just fine earlier, sunshine.”

 

He sighed sadly, eating the soup quietly, albeit sniffling and breathing very loudly and not arguing further.

 

When the soup was gone, I got another sad little sigh from Danny, as he scooted back down under the blankets. 

 

Staring at me sadly, he said, “I’m sorry I was crabby earlier.”

 

“I appreciate the apology,” I replied. “And I think you’re allowed to be cranky if you don’t feel well. You just have to deal with maybe not so fun consequences.”

 

He nodded, picking at a loose thread on the blanket as he said, “I’m really not tired. Do I have to take a nap?”

 

“I think you should,” I told him, not unsympathetic.

 

“But I said sorry,” he informed me, voice just a bit whiny on the last word. “And I won’t be crabby anymore. Promise!”

 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I said, tapping his nose. “And the nap isn’t a punishment, sunshine. I really think you need some sleep. When you’re sick, you need a lot of rest to get better.”

 

When that got me no response, I carried the mug back to the kitchen and washed it quickly and thoroughly before rejoining him on the couch.

 

He hadn’t moved from his position snuggled under the blanket, but he tried one last time, telling me, “I don’t need to sleep to rest.”

 

Danny’s POV

 

Tyler grinned when I tried to tell him about how sleep and rest wasn’t the same, asking me, “Is that so?”

 

“Yes,” I told him, nodding emphatically. “Sleep is sleep, Tyler. Rest is just quiet relaxing. I can do that though.”

 

“You’d rather lay here quietly than sleep?” he asked me. “I don’t even know if that would work, Danny. You’ve got some sleepy eyes.”

 

I shook my head at that, telling him, “I can just rest. I won’t fall asleep. Because I’m not tired. Not for sleep.”

 

That got me a laugh, which made me think I was making headway with him. Laughing had to mean I was winning.

 

“Please?” I asked, trying to widen my eyes. It was hard because my face was all swollen-y from my sinuses being icked.

 

“I’ll tell you what,” he offered, pulling my feet up on his lap and rubbing them. “If you lay quietly, then you don’t have to sleep. But if you can’t rest quietly on the couch, with your eyes closed, I might think that you need a nap in your bed. Got it?”

 

“Deal,” I agreed rapidly, closing my eyes and trying to focus on being quiet.

 

Tyler’s POV

 

I wasn’t expecting that he’d actually be able to remain awake. The way he was looking, he badly needed the sleep. It didn’t seem worth an argument though, when simply giving him what he wanted meant I would get what I wanted as well.

 

He didn’t drift off as quickly as I expected. He did manage to be quiet for several minutes before saying something.

 

“Tyler?”

 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” I pointed out, trying to be stern in spite of how adorable he sounded.

 

He nodded, keeping his eyes closed, “Uh huh. My eyes are closed. But do you see how good I’m resting?”

 

“Resting is quiet,” I admonished, with a squeeze to his toes. “But yes, you were being very quiet for me.”

 

He nodded again, not saying anything, and I went back to gently rubbing his stockinged feet.

 

It took him so long to say anything else that I thought he’d fallen asleep, but he finally piped up.

 

“Tyler?”

 

“You’re supposed to be being quiet, Daniel,” I reminded, finding it much easier to be stern this time.

 

“I know,” he replied. “Except I got a question. Can I just ask a question?”

 

“One.”

 

“Could…” his face was red, eyes closed, and he took a deep breath before spitting out the rest of his request, “Can I put my head in your lap?”

 

That was actually a reasonable thing to ask for, and I agreed, helping him shift, although I did feel the need to remind him that he had said he’d rest quietly.

 

“I will,” he promised fervently.

 

I played with his hair, hoping it would lull him to sleep, and I thought that it was working, as his breathing deepened. 

 

“Tyler?” he asked, just as I got ready to reach for my nearby book.

 

“Daniel Christian,” I responded, very sternly this time. “You promised me. If you don’t want to take a nap in bed, then you need to rest quietly right now. And so we’re clear, this is your last warning.”

 

I did not believe in multiple warnings. This was not baseball. I figured that all you did by giving a little boy three warnings to do something was convince him that he didn’t need to listen the first two times. That was a conversation for another day though.

 

“But I only got one more question,” Danny argued, eyes popping open this time.

 

“One,” I growled, giving him my absolute, sternest, I meant what I was saying, face. “And that’s it. One more peep out of you after your question, and it’s naptime in bed, Daniel.”

 

He nodded, closing his eyes again. He turned his face away from me, spitting out what he wanted to say so fast that it took me a minute to untangle all of the words.

 

“Iknowit’sjusttoday,butcouldImaybecallyoudaddy?Justfornow?Justforpretend?”


End file.
